by Chrys Cymri
‘Of course.’ He stepped forward. ‘But since I haven’t met James, I need something with a connection to him.’
‘I thought you could find anything.’
‘We can, if we have a connection,’ Raven said patiently. ‘The precise explanation is long, and your patience is short. So, what can you offer me?’
‘Nothing here.’ I patted my trousers uselessly. ‘And James took all of his stuff to Miranda’s.’
‘They’re brother and sister,’ Morey said. ‘Isn’t that enough? Can’t you find him through Penny?’
Raven lowered his head. I held still while he took a deep breath in through his nostrils. ‘Their scent would be similar. But that’s only surface. I need more than skin. Blood.’
‘Blood?’ I repeated.
‘Just a small amount,’ he assured me. ‘That would seal the connection. Slice your thumb.’
‘I don’t have a knife with me.’
Raven chuckled. ‘Then it’s just as well that I have one ready for you.’ He extended a forefoot, and I saw the reason for his earlier limp. His fingertoes uncurled, and he dropped a knife into my hands. The handle was smooth green wood, light sliding across the grain in a pattern very much like dragon scales. I opened the blade. An intricate design rippled through the grey-black metal, reminding me of lace. Deadly lace.
‘It’s a folding knife,’ I found myself saying. ‘You wanted me to have a dagger.’
‘You made your wishes very clear,’ Raven said, sounding confused. ‘Why would I not follow them?’
Indeed. Why wouldn’t he? The handle fit snugly into my right hand. I looked at the tapered tip, and my left thumb. The idea of deliberately cutting myself was making my stomach churn. For James, I reminded myself. I touched the cold metal to my skin. And then I pulled down.
Blood quickly welled up from the cut. I held my hand up to Raven. ‘There. What next?’
‘Hold still.’ His blue tongue flicked out, and tickled gently across my palm. I felt a heat rise through my body which had nothing to do with the setting sun. He returned his tongue to his mouth. ‘Yes. I can find him now. Climb up.’
‘What about me?’ Sigrid demanded. ‘You’re not leaving me here. How do I get back home?’
‘We’re going to Llanbedr,’ Raven said. ‘Just keep on my tail.’
‘And the fare? We agreed on forty galleons.’
‘You cheat all of your passengers?’
‘Those are my danger rates.’
I scrambled up Raven’s leg and settled myself between his spines. ‘I don’t have gold on me, but you’ll get paid,’ I assured the tacsi dragon. ‘I’ll make sure of it.’
‘You’d better,’ he warned. ‘Or I’ll tell my union about you.’
Morey climbed down from my shoulder and placed himself between a spine and my chest. I checked that the bag holding Clyde was secure. Then Raven trotted across the lava field, spreading his green-blue wings as he increased his speed into a gallop. Sigrid followed clumsily behind us as we left the settlement.
Raven flew towards the sea. Two dragon shadows stretched across black sands. Then we were over the water, dropping so low that dragon claws were catching on the waves. I took a deep breath of the salty air, and wished that I could enjoy the moment, but all I could think of was James.
Evening changed to night. We were above a city. Bright lights streamed along streets and from high rise buildings. Raven pounded his wings and took us even higher. I glanced back and saw the dark outline of the tacsi dragon, just off Raven’s tail.
Another shift in the air. Still night, and much darker. I sensed more than saw the Llanbedr below us. The lights were fewer than in human cities, and flickered red-yellow rather than blue-white, but it was the stench which reminded me that indoor plumbing was either less developed or seen as less important than in my own country.
Raven hovered, allowing Sigrid to come alongside us. ‘Payment,’ the tacsi dragon reminded me. ‘And I’m going to tell my union about you.’ Then he dived away.
Raven muttered something which was lost in the wind. Then he spread his wings and dropped down in a gentle glide. Once we were only a few hundred feet over the buildings, he levelled off and beat his wings in a steady pattern. I kept quiet, willing him to succeed in whatever search dragons did when they wanted to find someone.
‘He will find James,’ Morey said. ‘Don’t worry.’ And Clyde added a soft trill of his own.
‘I’m not worried about finding him,’ I said in a low voice. ‘It’s what we do afterwards. I don’t think he’s safely tucked away in an inn somewhere. Miranda went looking for trouble, and she’s dragged James right into it.’
‘We’ll face it together.’
‘What, a priest, a gryphon, and a snail shark?’
‘And a dragon,’ Morey pointed out. ‘He gave you a knife. Without offering you a coin.’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’
Raven banked suddenly, cutting off our conversation. ‘He’s in the longhouse below,’ he called back to us. ‘The Family Inkeri longhouse.’
‘How would the Matriarch react if we knocked on their door?’ I asked.
‘Not well.’ There was a pause, then Raven added, ‘I smell two human bodies. But I hear only one heartbeat.’
‘James?’
‘I don’t know. That I can’t tell.’
‘Land us.’ Please let James be alive, please let James be alive, I found myself praying. My face was warm with guilt, as I knew it meant I was placing his life above Miranda’s.
There was little light. Raven backwinged onto a surface which clacked under his feet. Stones, I decided. Long buildings hulked under the half-moon, and for a moment I was giddy with the realisation that they were indeed longhouses. Family Inkeri were Viking dragons.
‘Can we sneak inside?’ I asked Raven, suddenly hesitant about dismounting. I felt safer on his back.
‘I’m a cousin,’ Raven reminded me. ‘I have blood claim. I’ll demand entry.’
‘With a human on your back?’
‘The door will be opened to me, and I can push my way in. Then I can find James. But whatever you plan to do, it’ll have to be quick. The doorkeeper will summon the Matriarch.’
Then he strode forward, obviously confident that I did indeed have a cunning plan. I held onto his spine and desperately prayed for one.
Raven halted in front of the large door. ‘Hrafn Eydisson, cousin to Family Inkeri!’ he bellowed. ‘I claim food for my belly and a hearth for the night!’
The door creaked open. A very small dragon, no taller than a pony, stood in the entrance. In high pitched tones, she asked, ‘Siarad Cymraeg?’
‘Of course I speak Welsh,’ Raven said grandly. ‘But I also know Family Inkeri teaches all their pufflings to speak English. Don’t you want some practice?’
The dragon cleared her throat. ‘Welcome, cousin. Hearth is warm, yours. And meat, and ale.’
‘Many thanks to you,’ Raven said graciously, stepping past the youngster. ‘Give my regards to Matriarch Bodil.’
‘Matriarch is with family,’ the dragon said nervously. ‘In the side chamber, she is. Me to get her?’
We were standing at the entrance to a long room. A large hearth stood in the centre, a banked fire providing light and heat. Gas lanterns hung from rafters, revealing a bare stone floor and a number of brass chests. The hall was narrower than the outside of the building, and a row of doors on our left told me that there were a further set of rooms beyond.
‘I’ll warm myself by the fire,’ Raven told him. ‘Do you have any ale?’
But the young dragon was rearing back on her haunches. ‘What on your back? Vampire? No vampire smell.’
‘Never you mind.’ Raven was striding towards a door at the far end of the hall. ‘Go back to your kill.’
But the dragon was undeterred. ‘And gryphon. And--a falwen siarc?’
‘I’ve travelled a lot. Picked up some interesting scents.’
We ha
d nearly finished crossing the room, but the youngster was still panting alongside us. ‘Need to tell Matriarch.’
‘And how do you open this door?’ As Raven halted, I noted that the door had a keyhole. ‘Is it locked?’
‘Matriarch said no one was to go into that room,’ the dragon said nervously. ‘There are skrælingjar inside.’
‘I’m not frightened of skrælingjar.’
‘I’m frightened of Matriarch.’
‘Then tell her it’s all my fault. But I want a private room. Where’s the key?’
‘With Matriarch.’
Oh for a sonic screwdriver, I thought. Then I remembered that the sonic screwdriver didn’t work on wood. Once again I wondered whether this were actually reasonable, or simply a convenient plot device by the writers.
‘Don’t disturb her on my account.’ And Raven lowered a shoulder and pushed against the door. Hinges creaked and protested, planks splintered and cracked. I tightened my grip on his spine as he threw himself a second time against the wood. Then the door split open, and Raven staggered inside.
‘I’m telling Matriarch!’ the young dragon squealed.
‘What, disturb her meeting?’ Raven snapped. ‘She’ll not like that.’
But I was sliding down from his back, my eyes fixed on a hunched figure kneeling by the far wall. The dim gas lanterns gave me no clue as to the identity of the person, nor the body lying nearby. ‘James?’ I called out, stumbling over the uneven wooden floor. ‘Is that you?’
A pale face looked up at me. James, white with shock . ‘She said she wanted to give her condolences to the family,’ he babbled, nearly incoherent. ‘That’s what she said. Tell his mum and brothers how sorry she was. That’s what she said.’
Morey landed on the other side of the body. I could now see the deep puddle of blood, and the jagged gash where a neck should be. I tore my gaze away and knelt beside James. ‘She tricked you into coming here, didn’t she?’
‘We need to leave,’ Morey said urgently. ‘Ask questions later.’
But James was shuddering. ‘She asked to see them, just to see them. We were brought into this room. Then Miranda, she just lost it. She screamed how she knew that they had poisoned Endre, that she knew they’d done it because of Cadw ar Wahân, and that she was going to tell everyone. The biggest dragon, she roared back and then slashed her claws across Miranda’s throat. And there was blood everywhere, and I tried to catch her, but she just fell. She just fell and it was horrible, all the blood and she was trying to breathe and she couldn’t--’ He cut off and buried his head in my chest.
‘James, get up.’ I shook his shoulders. ‘Raven can carry us out of here.’
But Raven was backing away from a red dragon who was blocking the doorway. ‘My sorrow for your sorrow,’ Jary said formally. ‘But you cannot leave. The Matriarch has so said.’
‘It’s happened again,’ James said miserably. ‘Miranda died, and it’s all my fault. Just like with Alan.’
The sound of my husband’s name made me shiver. ‘James--’
‘That’s why I couldn’t come to the funeral.’ He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. ‘Just before I left for New Zealand, the last time I saw him alive, he took me out in the The Fancy Free. And he had a funny turn. He had trouble breathing, he threw up, and he went really pale. I asked him what was wrong, and he said it was nothing, just something he ate. But I didn’t think so. I wanted him to go to a doctor, but he refused. And he made me promise not to tell you. But if I’d told you, if he’d gone to a doctor, he’d still be alive. I kept quiet, and he had another heart attack and he died.’
I swallowed hard. I pushed my own tumbling emotions to one side, and focused on the young man in front of me. His eyes were glistening with tears he was fighting not to shed. Grief, guilt, and shame, all wrapped up in one hormonal package. ‘James, it’s not your fault Alan died. It’s his fault, his fault for not going to see a doctor. Not yours. Never yours.’
‘The Matriarch,’ Morey warned me in a low voice.
I closed my eyes for a moment, and took a deep, calming breath. Then I stood, and turned to face the huge red dragon. She had taken the place of her son at the door, and her exposed teeth glistened in the flickering light. ‘You,’ she spat at me. ‘This was a family matter. Humans have no place here.’
‘But Miranda was right, wasn’t she?’ I found myself asking. ‘Your family poisoned Endre, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t touch his eyes.’
‘Endre gave us no choice,’ Bodil hissed. ’He cavorted with a human. Cadw ar Wahân would have done the deed, and that would have been an even greater shame. A dragon should only die at the will of his family.’
‘And now,’ said Jary, ‘you can’t leave either. We cannot allow you to go to the heddlu.’
I wiped a hand across my face. The metallic tang of blood touched my lips, and I felt momentarily ill. Then I straightened. ‘You will not kill us.’
‘You are one human,’ Bodil said, sounding amused. ‘And we are many dragons.’
‘But I’m not just any human.’ I pulled the knife from my trouser pocket, and unfolded the blade. ‘I’m a knifebearer. And Raven gave me the blade. Without a coin.’
Raven stepped to my side. ‘So that’s two in this fight, Matriarch.’
Morey landed on my left shoulder. ‘Make that three.’
The velcro of the carry case ripped open and Clyde flowed up to my right arm. ‘Five!’ he announced.
The dragons snorted, amused. I glared at the snail shark, and his tentacles drooped, confused at my annoyance.
Then James rose to his feet. He came to my left, his clothes stained with blood, but his face strangely calm. ‘Yes, five.’ And Clyde’s eyespots brightened at his vindication.
We were still hopelessly outmatched. But I remembered what Morey had said. Dragons prefered to find a way to back down rather than fight. ‘Matriarch,’ I said formally, ‘You have the strength in numbers. We have the strength in heart. A battle between equals can only end with the destruction of both sides. Let us declare a truce.’
Bodil’s eyes flicked between me and Raven. ‘Without a coin?’ she demanded of him.
‘Without a coin.’
The Matriarch studied me. ‘I have no wish to fight a cousin to the death in my own home. I am minded to accept your truce. But if you leave here, you will tell the heddlu that we poisoned Endre.’
‘We should.’ My mind was racing. What she hadn’t said gave me an idea. I took a deep breath. ‘You murdered your own son. I’ll celebrate on the day the police find a way to convict you. But I have my own family to protect. So, Matriarch, this is what we’ll do. I’ll hear your confession. And, under the seal of the confessional, I’ll not be able to tell the police anything about Endre. Oh, I won’t be able to grant you absolution unless you go to them and admit to your crime, but I don’t think that’s going to make you lose any sleep.’
‘Penny,’ Morey pointed out, ‘we’re not bound by that same seal.’
‘Raven won’t want to see his own family arrested for murder,’ I said. ‘You’re an Elder, and I know you’ll respect canon law. Clyde can barely string two words together.’ I ignored the snail’s trill of protest. ‘And James--’
‘I want to see her rot.’
‘And you will keep quiet,’ I told him sternly. ‘I’m bargaining for our lives. You will keep this secret. Won’t you?’
He dropped his head. ‘Yes. Yes, I will.’
I looked up at the dragon’s head. ‘Your confession.’
‘I’m not a Christ follower,’ she reminded me.
‘It’s quite simple,’ Morey snapped. ‘Just say you’ve sinned, tell her what you’ve done, and ask for God’s forgiveness.’
Bodil snorted. But she said, ‘I fed my own son poisoned meat in my longhouse, and I let him go to die in Daear. My own gods will forgive me the act taken to protect the honour of my family, but you tell me if your God will.’
‘I can’t give you abs
olution unless you go to the police.’
‘So be it.’ She snorted again. ‘If I meet your God in Valhalla, we can argue about it over a large ale.’
‘Let us go, Matriarch,’ Morey said. ‘We will keep secret what you did to Endre. As promised.’
So, Morey understood. James was biting his lip, but keeping quiet. Clyde had slid back into his bag, only his eyespots peering over the edge. And Raven was matching Jary’s intense glare. I had the feeling that he’d transgressed some draconic rule, but that he was not going to back down.
Bodil retreated. I led the way out of the room. A dozen of red dragons stood in the longhouse, eyes glittering as they watched us emerge. They drew to one side as I marched to the main door. The knife was still clutched in my right palm, and I held the three inch blade as if it were a sword.
Then we were outside, and I was shivering from more than just the cold.
‘So, that’s it?’ James asked bitterly. ‘They kill Miranda, and we just walk away?’
‘Not now, James,’ I told him quickly. ‘Trust me. Morey, you know what you need to do?’
‘Indeed.’ Then he was gone, swooping off into the starlit sky.
‘What’s going to happen about Miranda?’ James demanded.
‘They won’t eat her,’ Raven assured him. ‘Human flesh tastes disgusting. Almost as bad as swine.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ James said weakly. ‘Excuse me.’ And he managed to take a few strides away before he was suddenly and noisily sick.
‘Is it safe to wait here?’ I asked Raven. ‘Just outside the family’s longhouse?’
‘The Matriarch will be busy with her family for a little while.’
‘Long enough for the police to get here?’
‘Police?’ James staggered back. ‘But you promised you wouldn’t go to them.’
‘Only about Endre’s murder,’ I told him. ‘I said nothing about Miranda.’
‘The Matriarch may not value a human’s life,’ Raven said. ‘But the heddlu will have a very different view.’
James came closer. ‘So, you did care what happened to her.’
‘Of course I did,’ I said gently. He was weaving on his feet. ‘But I had to make sure no one else died. Especially not you, James. I couldn’t lose you, too.’